DESIRE FOR PINEAPPLE

MARIO

I noticed you from afar. Actually, it is more truthful to say that I noticed your hair from afar.

A little kid that was walking next to me undoubtedly read my mind and pointed at your do proclaiming it a palm tree.

It looked more like a pineapple to me.

My gaze lowered down to your beautiful face, then to your chiseled bare torso. What began as a spark of interest momentarily turned into a slow-burning, melting desire.

I started following you everywhere you went. You didn’t seem to notice anyone, so it was easy for me to keep watching you behind the palm fronds.

When you rented a bike, the only natural thing for me to do was to rent one right after you. I wanted to wait for the right moment to approach you, while my internal inferno intensified by the minute.

After you docked your ride by the jungle gym, I watched two older visiting women strike up a conversation with you. They couldn’t hide their own desire, it was so obvious by the way they were looking up into your eyes. With a dazzling smile, you politely declined their offer to help you put on suntan lotion.

My palms were sweating, and my throat was tight, but I realized this might be my one and only chance: “Do you get that a lot?”

“Huh? Ummm, yeah…”

“What do you have planned for the rest of your day?”

“Not much”, he answers.

“So this might be weird, but… Can I shoot you?”

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